For Him: The Complete Series: A Dark Romance

by Marissa Farrar

  “Be careful of him. He’s dangerous.”

  She shrugged, her shoulders sharp jabs. “Aren’t they all? Anyway, I’ve known Bruno for even longer than I’ve known you. I can handle him.”

  I hoped she was right.

  “Why are you here, Yolanda?”

  She took a seat on the occasional chair in the corner of the room. “The other women and I want to know what happened. We want to know if Catalina is safe.”

  Tears shone in her dark eyes.

  “Catalina is with Torres.” I couldn’t hide the bitterness in my tone. “Just where she was always going to end up.”

  Her chest hitched, her fingertips pressed to her lips. “So, she’s alive?”

  It hadn’t even occurred to me that Yolanda and the other women hadn’t been told if Catalina was alive or dead.

  I reached out and placed my hand on her shoulder. “Yes, Yolanda. She’s alive, or at least she was the last time I saw her. I can only hope and pray that Torres keeps her that way.”

  “Thank God. You know she was like a daughter to me, and you’ve been like a son, Angelo. It breaks my heart to think of anything bad happening to her. I miss her terribly, even though I always knew she was going to be leaving us.”

  “I miss her, too. Every second that passes, I wish I’d done things differently.”

  She pressed her lips into a thin line, her eyes closing briefly, and she shook her head. “I know you tried to do your best for her, but I warned you this wasn’t going to turn out well.”

  Yes, she had, and I hadn’t listened. But I hadn’t felt like I had a choice. The moment I realized my feelings for Catalina, and she admitted she felt the same, I knew there was no way I could just hand her over to Elliot Torres. I had to at least try to get her away from there, even if I’d failed.

  “We were always going to lose her,” I said. “That was in the plan for the last eight years. Me trying to run away with her didn’t change that.”

  “Yes, but what you and Catalina did was a massive risk. You both could have ended up dead.”

  “But we didn’t.”

  “No, but you know Torres will be treating her differently now. He would have at least cherished her before, but now she’ll just be another girl to him.”

  Anger surged through me, and I spun away, my hand gripped in my hair. “Don’t you think I know that? That I haven’t been going over and over the last week, questioning every single word, every single touch? But how can I ever say I regret what we did when we got to have those few days together? And they were good days, even though we were frightened and hurt, and hungry and broke. I’d happily go through the same thing again if it meant I got to have her in my arms for another few days. We didn’t go through all of that for nothing.”

  The urge to tap my fingers against the side of my thigh washed over me, and I clenched my fists, fighting the compulsion.

  Yolanda got to her feet and crossed the room to me. She placed her hand against my biceps and gave me a reassuring squeeze. I glanced away, aware I was close to breaking and not wanting her to see. My father had always taught me to keep my emotions pushed far down, and while I tended not to want to follow anything that was similar to him, some habits were hard to break.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just worried for her, that’s all,” Yolanda said.

  I nodded. “I am, too. I won’t let this rest, though. You know that, don’t you? This isn’t the end.”

  Her hand dropped from my arm. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll figure out a way to get her back from Torres. I have to.”

  “Angelo.” There was a warning tone to her voice. “Be careful. You’re lucky you didn’t get the pair of you killed the last time. Your father and Torres won’t be so lenient the second time around.”

  “I know they won’t, which is exactly why I have to be careful.” I fixed Yolanda in my gaze. “So please, don’t repeat any of what I’ve said to the other women. You know how gossip can spread in this place.”

  “I would never do anything to put you or Catalina in jeopardy. You know that.”

  “I do. Thank you, Yolanda.”

  I was racking my brains, trying to think of a way she might be able to help, but I didn’t want to get her into trouble either. My father trusted Yolanda—perhaps even more than he trusted his own men, and certainly more than he trusted his son now, that was for sure. If she was the one and only person on my side, I couldn’t help feeling like I should take advantage of that.

  “I should probably go,” she said, turning back toward the door. “I don’t want anyone to notice me missing.”

  “Of course. Thank you for coming, Yolanda. It’s good to know that at least one person has my and Catalina’s backs.”

  She gave me a sad smile. “I only wish I could do more.”

  I didn’t reply, but my mind was whirring as she opened the door and slipped back out into the corridor. Was there anything she could do to help me? Could she get into my father’s office and search through his files to try to find out where he might have taken Catalina? But even if she was able to get hold of that information without getting caught, I’d still have the problem of getting out of the compound and reaching her. Right now, I was struggling to even leave my room without having Bruno or one of the other men stalking me.

  Besides, I didn’t want to get anyone else in trouble. I’d done enough of that already.

  Chapter Five

  I hadn’t thought I’d sleep when I was in a strange bed, with three other women I’d only just met sleeping around me, but I did. Exhaustion had claimed me, and even though I didn’t want to be where I was, I discovered a strange kind of acceptance inside me.

  We weren’t running anymore. I was right where I was supposed to have been all along. It had only been the events of the past week that had even made me consider the possibility that my future would be any different than this, but now I had to try to pretend none of that had ever happened, and get on with the life that had always been destined for me.

  Though I might have slept, my dreams tortured me.

  Angelo filled them, and we were still on the run, still free from Torres. I dreamed we were back in the hunter’s cabin, entwined together on the rug in front of the fire. He kissed my neck as I laced my fingers in his hair. Deep down, I knew he wasn’t supposed to be there, but I couldn’t remember why. I was just so happy to be with him again, none of the rest of it mattered.

  Lost in my dream, I’d been desperate for him, that need building inside me. I’d wrapped my legs around the backs of his calves, pulling him into me. I wanted to feel him inside me, was begging for the thick hardness of his cock to penetrate me. I wound and arched, pressing myself closer. The pressure built, and I crawled toward my release, needing it badly.

  I orgasmed in my sleep, unaware if I’d cried out in real life as I came. If the other women had heard me, perhaps they would have assumed my cries were those of fear rather than pleasure.

  Upon waking, it took me a moment to remember what had happened and let my mind piece together that I wasn’t with Angelo in the cabin, but locked in a basement room at Elliot Torres’s house with three other women. I looked around at their faces, but none of them appeared to be appraising me with any kind of judgment in their eyes. Maybe I hadn’t made a sound after all, and the cries of pleasure had only been in my dreams.

  The door opened, and I sat up in bed, clutching the sheet to my body. I didn’t know what kind of protection I thought a simple sheet would offer me, but the act was instinctual.

  Torres stood in the doorway, and he fixed his gaze on me.

  “Catalina, I want your presence in the house for breakfast. You have thirty minutes to shower and change. Make an effort for me, Catalina. I don’t want to be disappointed.”

  And with that, he shut the door again, vanishing from view.

  My stomach churned, and a wave of nausea flooded over me. I wasn’t so naïve to think Torres only wanted to eat with me. Eat me, howeve
r, was far more likely.

  The other women were clearly relieved, all except Kimmie, who glared at me. I didn’t know what her problem was. It wasn’t as though I’d asked to be there. Grace just slid back into her bed and pulled the covers over her head, and Deanna sat with both feet on the floor, her head hung down. She lifted her head to offer me a sympathetic smile as I got to my feet and went into the bathroom.

  My clothes were hanging on a rail behind my bed. They were all items Torres must have picked out for me when he thought I was still an innocent young virgin worthy of being spoiled. There were no jeans or other kinds of pants, but were mainly dresses, with a couple of indecently short skirts and skimpy tops thrown in for good measure. The dresses were certainly classier, so I selected one in black—not exactly feeling like I was up for bright colors, the black matching my mood. A small set of drawers revealed lingerie sets, all of them in expensive brands.

  I put my fingers to the necklace Angelo had given me. It was the one thing I had left that was mine, and that connected me to him, and I prayed Torres wasn’t going to make me take it off. The item gave me comfort, and with that comfort came hope that everything was going to be all right, even though I had no way of knowing whether it would be.

  Feeling the watchful eyes of the other women on me, I made my way to the bathroom and was thankful to be able to shut the door. There was no lock—not that I’d expected there to be—but at least I was able to have a moment of privacy. The previous night, I’d found a toothbrush still in its wrapper, and so I’d claimed that as my own. There were other toiletries in here, but no one had told me that anything belonged to anyone in particular, so I assumed they were all items Torres had provided for us all, and it was okay to share.

  I reached past the shower curtain to turn on the water. Within seconds, the shower gushed, hot and steamy, into the tub. I hadn’t washed properly since I’d had the bath with Angelo back at the motel. The memory hurt my heart, the pain physical, snatching my breath, and I paused for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for it to pass. It would never pass fully, though, I knew that. What I was experiencing was a kind of grief, and I doubted I’d ever get over it. Angelo had been my whole life, and now I had to go through it without him by my side. I didn’t know how many years I would live—if I could even think in years—before Torres no longer wanted me, or before I decided I couldn’t keep going, but I knew I would never stop missing Angelo. The love I’d felt for him was pure and good, and that would never change. Even if it faded in time, he’d always be a part of me.

  I stepped beneath the water and soaped down my body, and then washed my hair. I used a depilatory cream provided to rid myself of my body hair, knowing it was expected of me. I didn’t want to do anything that would make Torres angry. Angelo had told me to do what I needed to survive, and that included going along with Torres’s plans.

  When I was clean and smooth, I stepped from the shower, toweled myself off, and dressed in the clothes I’d been provided. I stood in front of the mirror and dragged a comb through my long, dark hair, the water elongating my curls. I felt weird using the makeup on the side, knowing other people had been there before me, but I remembered Torres’s threat about not letting him down, so I pushed past my discomfort and applied enough to even out my skin tone and highlight my eyes and lips.

  None of the other women had tried to use the bathroom while I was in here, but they must have been needing it. I felt hugely self-conscious as I stepped out of the bathroom and back into the room. Kimmie had been waiting outside the door, and she shoved past me.

  “Thought you were going to be in there forever,” she snapped.

  I ignored her.

  The blonde, Grace, had barely said two words to me since I’d arrived, but now she gave me a shy smile. “You look pretty.”

  I returned the smile. “Thanks.”

  Deanna’s expression was grim. “Yeah, you do, though I don’t know if that’s a good thing in this place.”

  My stomach twisted in knots. “No, it probably isn’t.”

  Torres arrived right on time. He opened the door and jerked his head toward me without saying a word. I put my head down, remembering my training. The few days I’d spent with Angelo had made me forget my subservient ways, but now I needed to slip back into them. Challenging Torres wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

  He locked the door behind us again, shutting the women inside, then turned to head back up the corridor. I scurried after him, my bare feet cold on the hard floor. We hadn’t been given any shoes, and I assumed that was because he either didn’t want us to use them as a weapon or didn’t want us to run.

  I followed him back up the stairs and through a second locked door and into the main part of the house. The locked doors meant it would be almost impossible for us to ever get out of there. We might be able to get through one door, if we caught someone by surprise, but getting through two would be beyond lucky.

  “I figured you’d be hungry,” he called over his shoulder as he led me into a dining room with a shiny mahogany table at its center. The aroma of hot coffee wrapped itself around me like a hug.

  I kept my gaze cast down. “Yes, I am.”

  “Good. Sit and eat with me. I like to have a little female companionship during my meals.”

  I hesitated, unsure which seat I should choose. The table must seat at least fourteen people. The silver jug of coffee and plates, cutlery, and silver-domed covered platters were all down one end, however, so I cautiously slid down toward them.

  Torres took the seat at the head of the table and patted the chair beside him. Anxious, and suddenly not hungry in the slightest, I lowered myself into the seat.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  I kept my gaze fixed on the table in front of me. “Shouldn’t I be the one pouring it?”

  “Not at all. You’re my guest, and you shall be treated like one. Cream and sugar?”

  I nodded dumbly. I didn’t know what he wanted from me, and all of this was making me uncomfortable. Didn’t he have staff who would be able to serve? Why was he the one doing it? I didn’t think I’d ever seen the master serve the women in the entire eighteen years I’d spent at the compound. Silas Cassidy would never have dreamed of doing such a thing, and yet here was Torres pouring cream and spooning sugar into my cup.

  “Thank you,” I said, lifting the silver spoon to stir the coffee.

  “You’re very welcome, Catalina. Now, tell me, how have the other girls been treating you? I hope they’ve all been polite. The four of you will be working closely together, so it’s important you all get along.”

  I took a sip of my coffee. It was hot and sweet and tasted wonderful. “They’ve all been kind, thank you, sir.” I wasn’t about to mention that the redhead, Kimmie, had poured my meal all over my feet the previous night. That was between me and her, and I wasn’t going to run to the master every time there was a disagreement. I was sure there would be more to come. Kimmie had taken a dislike to me, but I had no idea what I’d done to deserve her hatred. We were all in the same boat, weren’t we? We should be working together, not fighting.

  He lifted one of the silver cloches, revealing pastries and fruit. Memories of breakfast with Angelo hit me like a physical force in my chest, and I clenched my fists and bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself barking a sob. Even in this strange place, with no one around I knew, it still seemed like every little thing reminded me of him.

  “Everything okay?” he asked as he lifted some food onto the plate in front of me. He didn’t bother to ask what I wanted.

  I forced a smile. “Of course. This is lovely.”

  I noticed he hadn’t placed any food on his own plate. “Are you not eating?”

  “No, I prefer to watch you enjoy it.”

  My hand shook as I picked up my fork and stabbed a small cube of melon. I put it in my mouth, the sugary sweetness dissolving on my tongue, and quickly chewed and swallowed.

  “Good,” he praised. “Keep going.
”

  He was watching me intently, his gaze fixed upon my mouth as I forced myself to eat the fruit.

  When that was all gone, he said, “And now the pastry.”

  I didn’t want to eat it, but I knew I didn’t have a choice. Using my fingers, I picked up the croissant and tore it in half, and then took a bite of the smaller piece. The pastry felt too dry in my mouth, but I kept going, chewing and swallowing, feeling his gaze on me.

  Flaky shards clung to the small amount of lip gloss I’d applied, and he reached over the table. His thumb swiped across my lower lip, dragging down the delicate skin and forcing me to open my mouth. He pushed his thumb across my bottom teeth and into my mouth, swiping across the surface of my tongue. His finger tasted faintly of coffee and something sweet. My heart pounded, and I hesitated, unsure what he expected from me.

  “Suck it, Catalina,” he demanded.

  I did as he said, drawing the digit deeper into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the tip, imagining it was another part of his anatomy I was sucking, and trying to remember everything Angel had taught me.

  Suddenly, he pulled his thumb from my mouth and got to his feet. He pushed his chair back and stepped away from the table to approach me. My breath caught, every muscle in my body rigid with anticipation. He moved behind me. I was so conscious of his presence, just behind my right shoulder. It was as though he burned, and his heat pressed like a hand against my skin.

  “I had so many dreams for you, Catalina,” he said. “I’d been dreaming of you coming to live with me for years. I imagined how I’d treat you, differently to the others, like my little princess in her ivory tower. I was going to shower you with gifts and dress you in the finest clothes. You’d be perfect because no other man had laid a hand on you.” He smoothed my hair away from my face from behind, tucking stray dark strands behind my ears. “And then you went and fucked it all up.” His hands suddenly tightened in my hair, and he wrenched my locks into a ponytail in his fist. He yanked my head backward, forcing my head back and my chin up, my throat straining. I gasped and let out a whimper.